Letters to Jethro
by Partners In Fanfic
Summary: One woman. Countless letters. All to the same man, but never sent. Why? Because Jennifer Sheppard wrote to Jethro Gibbs what she could not bring herself to actually say. **Judgment Day never happened**
1. From Paris with Love

_**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN NCIS.**_

_Dear readers,_

_I have no idea what inspired me to write this, all I know is that it came to me one day. Actually, as you'll see, the part of Jen not sending them was inspired by a class that I have to take where we wrote negative thoughts down on a piece of paper and them burned them...but I won't take this story THAT far. Anyway, I hope you enjoy it, and let me know what you think! _

_-EAJP_

****French words used in the story...in the order that they are used****

**I apologize if my French is butchered... I'm going by what the internet tells me...so if it's wrong, sorry.  
**

**mon amour - my love**

**Jeune - young**  
**ma chère - my dear**  
**amitiés - all the best!**

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September 1999 – Paris, France**_

A young redhead was sitting at an outside café table across from the Eiffel Tower, head bent slightly over the paper in front of her. Every once in awhile, she would glance up and look at the Eiffel Tower for a minute, and then look back down at her paper and continue to write.

At first glance, anyone would think that she was working – she was undoubtedly American, and there was a briefcase on the ground next to her. With the Serbian embassy and countless other agencies being only about a twenty-five minutes' walk or so away, she could have been on a break for all anyone would know. She was on a break, that part was true, but she most definitely wasn't working. Unless, of course, writing a letter to your lover counts as work.

Jen, the young NCIS agent, ran a hand through her hair and began to reread what she had written so far.

_Dear Jethro,_

_I would start this letter out with a simple "How are you?" but that would seem too original. Instead, I'll ask this: Why did the Director feel the need to split us up for this mission? I know we'll be seeing each other soon, but the time apart is killing me._

_Paris just isn't the same without you, you know. There isn't any meaning behind it when you aren't here to spend time with. I tried to go out to take advantage of being back here, but being hit on by the young Frenchmen isn't as fun when you aren't here to glare at them. So, I've been spending my nights in the hotel room and my breaks during the day sitting by the Eiffel Tower – it's one of the only parts of this city that I find clean._

_Which brings me to my next question: Has Paris always been this dirty? Compared to some of the other European cities we've been to, it isn't the cleanest. I assume it has to do with all the people roaming around and all the tourists from out of country. When did it get like this? Needless to say, I'm still captivated by its beauty, even though you aren't here._

_I miss you, Jethro, I really do. I know it's only been a week since I've seen you and a couple of days since I've talked to you, but it feels like forever. I'm beginning to see why most of the agents in this business aren't married (and I'm not referring to you and your marriage issues). I never thought I could miss someone like this, but I guess it comes with the love._

_Maybe what we're doing is wrong – there are rules against relationships like this. This loneliness without you, it could cloud my judgment. But Jethro, I don't care. I'd rather feel lonely like this and let it cloud my judgment than not feel your love at all._

_Do you even feel the same way about this? You say you do, but is it just talk? Oh, that was a stupid thing to write, but Jethro, I need to know – even though I know the answer, I need to hear you say it. I try not to look lovesick and lonely, and I hope I'm pulling it off. I don't want anyone to suspect anything._

_I can't wait to see you in Positano. I've always wanted to go to Italy – maybe we can stop in Praiano if we get any downtime? I hear it's a nice coastal town this time of year. But of course, work first, play later – I really hope this mission goes quickly and everything can go back to normal again. _

_Love you, Jethro, as always._

_Always and forever __**mon amour**__,_

_Jen_

Jen finished rereading the letter and glanced back up at the Eiffel Tower. She was never one to write love letters, but the mood felt right. Besides, she doubted she would ever send it – or even show it – to Jethro. Letters like that to a coworker could ruin both their careers if found, and that was never her goal. No, she would tuck it in her suitcase, and then when she finally got home she would put it in the box that she stores in her closet, which contains all the other letters she wrote but never sent.

It was therapeutic, getting her thoughts on paper. It helped pass the time, and it helped clear her head – two things that she loved accomplishing.

"Missing someone, _Jeune_?" An elderly French woman broke Jen out of her trance. She spoke perfect English, but she had a French accent. Luckily, Jen understood French, so it didn't matter either way.

"Is it that obvious?" Jen asked, looking up at her with a half smile.

"Well, sweetheart, you are in one of the most romantic cities in the world, and you are sad looking," the woman with the French accent replied.

"And here I thought I was doing a good job of hiding it – please, sit." Jen gestured to the chair in front of her, which the woman gladly sat down in.

"Now please do not take this the wrong way," the woman continued, "but you are an American judging by your accent – obviously whoever you are thinking about is not here."

Jen smiled slightly – the woman had a point. "I'd hate to be talking to a stranger about this – my name is Jennifer," she replied, sticking out her hand.

"Esme," the woman replied, accepting the shake. "Now, who is this man you are missing?"

Jen, at first, was hesitant. She wasn't sure why she was about to tell this woman about her twisted love life, but she was nonetheless. "He and I, we work together, and then we got really close – and now, well you can figure out the rest," Jen managed to get out.

"And the problem is?" Esme asked.

"I'm not sure we should be in a relationship. I mean, we shouldn't, but –"

"The heart wants what it wants, _ma chère_. If you love this man, then love him with all your heart, and then nothing can go wrong." Esme stood up and pushed the chair back in. "Now, pardon me, Jennifer. My husband and I have plans to meet for a nice lunch. _Amitiés!_"

Jen watched as the elderly woman walked away and down the street, humming a gentle tune to herself. France never ceased to amaze Jen with the fact that everyone seemed so friendly. Shooting another look at the Eiffel Tower, she picked up her pen and added a few lines to the letter.

_P.S. I guess that I'm not doing such a good job at hiding my loneliness. A woman just came up to me and pointed out that fact. But she said something that made me realize that we can make it work between us. She said, "The heart wants what it wants." She said that if I love you, then I should love you with all my heart, and then nothing can go wrong. And Jethro, I love you. Let's just hope for the best.

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_**Alright, let me know what you think! This is my first attempt at a genuinely sappy fic, but I promise it won't stay that way for long**

**I hope to update at least once a week, but we'll see. I plan on only having four chapters, maybe more...we'll see.**

**PS - I personally don't know if Paris is dirty or not, but I used it to show that Jen doesn't notice anything other than Gibbs when he's around..anyway, yeah..creative license in use!  
**


	2. So This is Goodbye

_**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT, NOR WILL I EVER, OWN NCIS.**_

_EAJP here. Well, sorry it took so long to get this out, but the muse temporarily left me. Anyway, review please! And read and enjoy!!_

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October 2000 - Prague, Czech Republic**_

Jennifer Sheppard sat at a small café table on the outskirts of town, visibly distraught. She was clutching a pen tightly in her hand, with the tip poised over a piece of paper. People who passed by glanced, but said nothing more - besides, what could they say? They didn't know her, and quite frankly, they didn't care.

She had just made the biggest decision of her career – of her life even. She was given the choice between pursuing the career she always dreamed of and staying with the man she couldn't bring herself to stop loving. Of course, being Jen Sheppard, she chose her career.

Love never meant much to her. Well, at least she thought she didn't, seeing as though she never really loved anyone. She always said she didn't have time for it, and that could have been the truth. But then love – in the form of the one Leroy Jethro Gibbs – landed right in front of her and stayed. No longer being able to use that excuse, she considered love a weakness then. In a field dominated by men, anything feminine was an Achilles heel. And to say Jethro was her Achilles heel was an understatement.

Jen stared at the piece of paper in front of her, hoping it would give some insight as to what she should do. Of course, there wasn't anything left _to do_. She made her bed, and now she had to face the fact that she needed to lie in it.

_It's not you, it's me_. Jen would have chuckled at the thought that she would be applying such a clichéd line to her life had it been any other day. But the truth of it – the truth she had never saw in the hackneyed line before – felt like a slap in the face.

Rubbing her face vigorously to stop the tears from flowing freely, she put her pen definitively on the paper and began to write.

_Dear Jethro,_

_I'm sorry. I'm sorry for ever setting foot in your life like I did, but fate works in twisted ways. I care about you Jethro, I love you – you must believe me. But, I need to do what's best for me. I've worked my whole life for this career, to get to this point – I can't pass this up. I need to show the world what I'm capable of._

_I know you don't care what 'the world' thinks of you, and that's fine. You've made it to where you want to be. You've been successful in the Marines, and you're successful now. But I need more – I need to feel that I've proved myself._

_I know you don't care about that either. Hell, Jethro, you only care about solving the case. But maybe I'm not cut out to be this kind of field agent. I like it, but I need a desk job. I need to be around all the 'tight sphincters,' as you oh-so-elegantly call them. Maybe that's what I'm destined for. _

_You don't need me, Jethro. I know tens of women that would drop everything to be with you, if only for a little. You may think you have bad luck with women, but you obviously haven't tried hard enough._

_Truthfully, I don't deserve you. You've been too good to me. I've loved every minute of our time together, but how long would it have lasted? How long would it have been before you got bored with me and decided to move on in your own terms?_

_I hope you understand where I'm coming from. I know that you probably don't, and you probably hate me, but I couldn't say goodbye any other way. I couldn't say goodbye at all. _

_I wish it didn't end like this. I wish things would have worked out differently. But they didn't. So, I guess we have to work with what we have, and that's not much. I know you'd disagree with me, but you've always told me to trust my gut. And my gut told me to take this job._

_I wish you all the luck in the world, not that you need it – you never did, and you never will. But, I know that we'll see each other someday. Call me an optimist, but if fate brought us together once, it will bring us together again. I don't know when, or where, or how, but I have faith we will (and I know what you're thinking, 'Someday…when's that?')._

_I have nothing left to say other than I'm sorry and I love you._

_Always and forever,_

_Jen_

Jen put her pen down and stared at the words in front of her. She poured her heart into the letter – well, as much as she could without breaking down in tears – but she wasn't going to send it to him. She folded it up and shoved it deep into her pocket where it couldn't shake loose. She'd take it home and put it in the box in her attic where every letter she's ever written but never sent lay.

Heartfelt letters weren't something Jethro would want to read, and not something Jen wanted to accredit as her own. Instead, she had written him a semi-impersonal letter on a piece of paper the hotel had supplied, briefly giving an explanation and a semi-heartfelt apology. He wouldn't ask questions then, and she doubted that he would seek her out.

The latter of her thoughts was proven incorrect when she turned in her chair to shoot a glance at the hotel she had checked out of. The normally-stoic form of Jethro Gibbs was currently frenzied. As she saw him approach, she made out that he was clutching a piece of paper – her letter – in his hand.

She stood up abruptly, almost knocking the chair over. She had two choices – stay and face him, or run and leave it behind. Being Jen Sheppard, she chose to run.

She snatched up her bag and started to walk away briskly. "Jen!" she heard Gibbs call in a dismayed tone. For a moment it made her pause, but her pause quickly turned into a quickening of her step.

As soon as she could, she threw herself into the throngs of people scurrying about the streets – what a convenient day to be near a festival. Not looking back, she continued to run. Because she could. Because she needed to.

And once she was sure Jethro wouldn't find her and that no one would dare to bother her (not that anyone was around), she collapsed onto a bench. And for the first time in a long time, she cried – for Jethro, for her career, for everything she never 'found time' to cry for. She cried because running was not as easy as it looked. And it wasn't bound to get any easier.

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**Alright, let me know what you think! Your reviews are my motivation...really, they make my day. Anyway, let me know how you like this seriousness (I promise the next chapter will be happy)!**

**I'm only going to have three chapters in this story, so just as an FYI, next chapter will be the last.  
**


	3. Finally a Happy Ending

_**DISCLAIMER: I STILL DON'T OWN NCIS. I DO, HOWEVER, OWN ESME FROM FRANCE. SHE IS MY LITTLE CHARACTER (FINALLY).**_

_EAJP here. We'll here lies the end of our little Jibbs journey. I apologize that it took so long to update, but the whirlwind called real life got in the way - big time. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this fic and maybe read some of my others. Read and enjoy!_

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Sheppard Residence, July 2010**_

Jen sat in her study at her desk, pen poised over her paper as she put the last few letters on yet another letter no one but the box she would put it in would see. She truly loved writing these letters that no one would read – in fact, as she thought about it, they had become a sort of support. Whenever she was struggling, she would just write a letter to Jethro and then everything would seem to make more sense.

She knew that he would never read them, but she felt the burden of guilt being lifted off her every time she wrote an apology after she wronged him in some way. It was almost as if he knew she wrote those letters, but was kind enough not to say anything. Knowing Gibbs, he probably didn't care.

Jen shook her head and reread the letter one last time.

_Dear Jethro,_

_I am so sorry for what I did to you in the past. I put my career first, and that was wrong. But the day I started as Director and saw the look in your eyes, I knew that maybe you'd allow me to put the past behind us. I guess I was right – even if it took you awhile to admit it. _

_I know that I said that there wouldn't be any 'off the job,' but what else was I supposed to say? I'm your boss, and at that moment, I needed to make that clear for reasons I didn't really understand. I do, however, appreciate you mocking me for what I said every chance you get – it's a reminder that I need to stop worrying so much about what everyone thinks. _

_You could have shunned me every time I tried to talk to you (I know I would have), or you could have gone out to spite me every chance you got – but you never did, did you? At least you didn't do it on purpose – or to tick me off. And I'm kind of thankful for that, but why? Why did you make life kind of easy for me? I guess because underneath that hard exterior, you really are a nice guy._

_I'm glad we were able to put the past behind us. Honestly, I wasn't sure what I would do if you didn't take me back in some way. Maybe I was being selfish in thinking you would do it so readily, and I probably was. But you didn't throw anything back in my face, even when you probably should have. I guess what I'm trying to say is thanks. _

_You mean so much to me, Jethro. I think that when I chose my career over you, I had some sort of moment of insanity. You're perfect to me, and to think that all those years ago I just walked away from perfection – it kills me every time I think of it. _

_I'm so sorry for what I did to you. I don't even think words could describe how sorry I am. But I'm glad you took me back. I really am. Words couldn't describe how happy I am, either. I guess that's just the effect you have on me, though – just thinking about you makes me somewhat incoherent. _

_I love you, Jethro. I don't think I say it enough, probably because I'd never be able to, but I do. And I'm just thankful you love me back._

_Always and forever yours,_

_Jen_

Jen smiled. She really did love him.

Without looking at the words again, she folded it, tucked it in an envelope, and headed upstairs to her attic. She maneuvered her way around boxes and crates filled with things that she couldn't even remember owning and finally found the box in the corner that she was looking for.

She lifted the lid of the box – it was kind of like an oversized hat box – and tossed the letter in. Jen sighed when she noted that it was almost full. "Guess I'll have to find a bigger box," she muttered.

"Hey, Jen? I'm home! Where are you? We have to get to Ziva's house a little early, remember?" Jen was snapped out of her reveries by the sound of fiancé entering the front door. Yes, fiancé.

"Up here!" Jens shouted as she scrambled out of the attic and down the stairs. "Sorry, I was in the attic."

"The attic? Why were you up there?" Gibbs looked at her oddly.

Jen briefly considering just telling him about the letters, but almost laughed aloud at the thought. She'd let him find out on his own one day, whenever fate decided it was time for him to see them. "Oh nothing, just moving some boxes around. I had to take a few clothes that are too small for me up there."

Gibbs nodded. At the mention of clothes, he decided not to press the subject. "You ready to go?"

"Yeah." Jen smiled as she grabbed her coat and walked out the door with Jethro, hand-in-hand. Esme from France turned out to be right – the heart wants what it wants, and nothing stops it from getting it. Not an ocean, not a career, nothing. And honestly, Jen couldn't be happier.

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**The end.**

**So, what did you think? I love happy endings, don't you?**

**Thanks for reading. Your views and reviews are always appreciated and brighten up my day. So, thanks.  
**


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